


Wake-Up Call

by beautifullyheeled, janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Two Two One Bravo Baker Series
Genre: Afghanistan, First Time, John Watson in Afghanistan, John in Afghanistan, M/M, Military, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Two Two One Bravo Baker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1665698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullyheeled/pseuds/beautifullyheeled, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a disastrous night John finds comfort in the Arms of his C.O.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>John Watson and James Sholto centric. Mentions of Blackwood; loss of pre-Bravo Baker personnel. Pre-Bravo Baker assignment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake-Up Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abundantlyqueer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abundantlyqueer/gifts), [janto321](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=janto321).
  * Inspired by [Borrowed Nights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1663499) by [janto321 (FaceofMer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321). 



> Thanks to Mer (janto321)for co-writing this with me. And for letting me play with these two.
> 
> This particular fic plays well within my Big Dick AU, and is pre-221BB assignment. Blackwood is here, but in mention only. More a nod to one of my favourite writers within the fandom that spawned her very own much beloved AU. If you have not read Two Two One Bravo Baker by Abundantlyqueer, please do so. 
> 
> It also allowed me to co-write with one of my favourite authors, Janto321. Her fic, Borrowed Nights, got my head in this place with James and John. Thank you for being awesome Mer!

James knew John. Knew the Captain; sure, level-headed. The Surgeon; skilled, amazing under pressure. The Doctor; kind, believed in confidentiality. He watched the man when he could, always aware of who was there at the moment. Wouldn’t do to be seen gazing at your subordinate with longing in your eyes. There was just _something_ about the man. James wanted to fuck him, spread John and watch as he pushed his way into tender flesh. Curl up with the compact blond and spend time with him; lick his dry chapped lips open and taste the mint and hours old tea as they fisted their cocks together in the coolness of night until they both were shagged out.

This was a problem for James. He knew it, but he couldn’t ignore those depthless blue eyes when they crinkled in the honest way they did when John laughed. Wanting to taste that laugh, put it there, feel the skin as it went taut against his chest. The slick of their perspiration between them. Feeling the weight of a lover in the madness of all of this. Being able to snatch joy when it could be taken in monofilament-thin increments. The thin line just waiting to trip him up one day.

John, in his infinite wisdom, had been watching over the flock of wounded that still were there, not yet helivaced out. Being at a forward base, he took care of more than just their own. It was admirable the way he cared for them all. You could feel that he actually cared about the lives that his hands tended to.

Tonight though, James had been woken at 0300 for an incoming/outbound casualties report by John. The major pulled on a tee as he took in the state of his doc. Haggard. The only word his mind could process at the hour. Barely out of surgery, scrubbed but exhaustion now in the normally warm and expressive face. His voice wasn’t much better. The light tenor gone flat and listless, only the amount of grief he would allow the situation in front of someone to colour it, nothing more.

James listened and nodded, intending to let John go and decompress in his own quarters, but something hit him deep and hard in his gut.

“Who was it, Captain?” The words were quiet enough to be ignored if John wished.

“One of Blackwood’s, sir.” John answered, his hand ruffling through the short blond crop. “It’s fine, I’m just... it was a long shift, sir.”

“James, John. You know you can drop the rank in here.” Against his military judgement, which was railing at him, he stood walking the short distance to the washed out doc. His hand found a tense shoulder that he rubbed comfortingly with his thumb. James tried to breath deeply to get John to do so as well, but it caught in his throat as the blue that he coveted were washed with anguish.

“Si- James, I’ll be _fine_. I just need... well I don’t know what I need. To go to take a kip and sleep for three days or to the range to shoot until my arm is numb.” At least John chuckled, even though it held gallows humour within it. “A good shag would be just what the doctor ordered, but not going to get off with- well doesn’t matter does it?”

“Rank does complicate things,” James chuckled himself, softening his grip to something just this line of soothing. Not wanting to press his luck, but not able to resist the urge James took in John’s stance. how crumpled he was and took the chance. “Not as complicated between us though, if you want.”

Those eyes shone now, with surprise and uncertainty.

“I’m not strictly... is this an offer, James?” The weight of the words were heavy between them, gravid with possibility. Unsure turned to hopeful. “Sex only. No more, or it will get complicated-”

“I think you’ve said enough for now, John.” James moved then, closing the scant distance, took John into his arms with a ferocious kiss. Enough to blindside the stout, unruly-nerved surgeon into supplication. His hands found nothing but lean muscle under the desert beige tee. James pulled away, teeth scraping warm flesh at the apex of throat and shoulder, pulling the shirt off as he went. He met John's eyes. “Sex only. Understood.”

John crashed into him. Teeth found lush, slick lips again in another mind-numbing tangle as James moved them to his desk, pushing what he could to the hard-pack floor of his quarters. Papers pooled at their feet as he lifted John, kneading his arse before settling it on the hard surface, a groan coming from one of them. Who it was, he couldn’t tell. Hopefully John. This was about him, now. Fingers made short work of the slide buckle, then zip, his cock hot and hard underneath the cotton of his pants.

John gripped at his neck and hissed at the contact. “Fuck, yes.”

James held the doctor’s hip still as he wrapped his fingers around him, John made a noise of impatience he knew well. “Drawer, lube,” said James.

“Protection.” John moved his hand down into his thigh pocket and pressed a lube sachet into James’ hand, along with a condom.

James’ boxers hit the floor, kicked aside as John shoved down his trousers. Teeth clashed again as James' slicked fingers slid between John’s thighs and stroked his entrance. He watched as his finger pressed into the tight space, his smile wolfish.

"Just do it," growled John.

“Impatient?” James ghosted the tease along golden stubble he’d wanted to taste for ages, swiftly rolling on the condom, exchanging his fingers for himself. He thrust purposely, fingers gripping John’s hips as he panted, fighting the need to bury himself. John huffed hard against his ear, bracing himself with his arms. Booted heels dug into James' hips. He closed his eyes and pulled John closer to get as deep as possible.

“Fuck me,” John ground out, the catch in his voice evident.

James lifted John just off the desk, wrapping one arm firmly around him. John nipped at his exposed shoulder where the t-shirt was pulled aside. James could feel the way he was squeezing him, riding him.

"Fucking hell," he swore, lifting John completely, turning and shoving the smaller man against the wall with a clatter. James pinned him, fucking him hard, feeling John start to surrender. He pulled at John’s short cropped hair, licking a hot stripe along his throat as he buried himself, his pace relentless for the both of them. His cock teased by the notion that he had what he wanted right here, right now, James growled darkly against coming right then and there.

John whined, biting his lip, as James let go of his hair to fist his cock instead. James pinned him roughly, bearing most of their weight, shifting against the restriction of the undiscarded clothing. His hips snapped, slick movements between them making John fuck himself into the tightened fist and back onto James. He twisted upward, catching the flared ridge of John’s cock, his foreskin popping over it through his closed fingers. “That’s bloody gorgeous, John.”

“James- I’m close,” The stuttered rough whisper earned another harsh meeting of their mouths as James moved to quiet John as he jerked hard. James angled himself to get a better view, causing John to shudder hard and choke on a muffled cry. James groaned as John clenched around him, thick ribbons spilling between them. James followed him over. He kept John in place, shuddering. 

Moments later, James moved. Carefully untangling his fingers, wiping them on his wasted tee, gingerly setting John to his feet. Not wanting too. He pulled off the condom, throwing it at the bin and not caring if he missed. His eyes remained fixed on John as he gently cleaned him. He wanted to sear this into his memory. _All of it._ James thought to himself.

“Alright?” He asked, his own voice hoarse.

“I’ve just been shagged six ways of Sunday and you’re asking if I’m _alright_?” John giggled. Honestly giggled, like a punch drunk cadet. “I’m bloody well and _alive_. Had a ridiculously hot fuck against a wall. Here. In the middle of this... hell-born shit filled purgatory. I’m _fine._ ”

John pulled up his clothes and walked to the desk, grabbing his t-shirt. James couldn’t help but to follow him with his eyes once again before going and putting on his discarded boxers. “Go get some rest, Watson. You’ve more than earned it.” He winked once, before lounging against his desk looking at the mess he had to clean. It was worth it. John was worth it. “Take the next twenty-four and try to take care of yourself. We don’t get many chances for quiet nights around here. I’ll get cleaned up and talk to Blackwood.”


End file.
